Incident at Pima Mesa
Chapter 1

The year was 1881. The sun was a blazing orb burning in a near cloudless sky. The wagon was old and creaked under the strain as the horses plodded across the southern Arizona plains.

"I'm glad we waited."

The young man smiled as he spoke and looked into the eyes of the woman he had married only hours before.

"Well, Mr. Tom Willis, I don't mind telling you, you nearly drove me crazy with your waiting."

He switched both reins to one hand, his other arm going around the young woman's waist.

"Well, Mrs. Tom Willis, you shan't have to wait much longer. Another hour or two and we will make Sierra Verde."

She smiled.

"And there I hope you will find the wait worth while."

She moved his hand to her breast.

"In fact, why wait?"

Her hand went to his crotch.

"Now Miranda, what if someone comes along?"

"Who's apt to come along out here? You said yourself this shortcut is seldom used, even by the Indians."

"Well, you never know. Besides, I want our first time to be in our own bed, right and proper."

She laughed.

"Making me wait again, eh?"

"If it were up to you, Mrs. Willis, we'd probably have ended up in that hayloft the first night we met."

"And I dare say we would have had a lot more fun than we did at that stuffy church social."

"Of that I'm sure," he responded by squeezing a bit.

"And in the meantime," she chastised jokingly, withdrawing her hand and moving his back to her waist, "you can just keep your mind on driving this team of horses and getting us to Sierra Verde in one piece."

He laughed and switched the reins urging the horses onward.

Unnoticed on the top of a nearby mesa, a lone rider sat astride his mount and silently surveyed the wagon winding its way.

His eyes tracked the wagon and its human cargo much as a vulture awaits a meal. Tall and lean, his Mexican face was ruggedly handsome, dark hair and eyes accentuated by a black moustache.

A slight smile crossed his face as he pushed back his sombrero and started the horse in a slow, deliberate walk along the mesa rim.

He would wait. He had been tracking them for several hours. He thought to himself that patience always paid off... and he was a patient man.

"It does seem to me we're taking a big chance just packing up and moving to Sierra Verde this way," she sobered, her eyes no longer laughing.

"Now Miranda honey," he responded, "I've told you a hundred times that Sierra Verde is a growing town. There's a great future there for us."

"But selling your family ranch..."

"It's what Mom and Dad would have wanted. Besides, we'll get a new spread in Sierra Verde. I've already talked with Mr. Bloomfield at the bank. He says there's a real nice piece of land only five miles from town."

He patted the wallet in his rear pocket.

"This will get us the start we need."

She hid her concern with a reassuring smile while he continued to gaze at his young bride.

Miranda Willis was a beautiful young woman. Having just turned nineteen, her laughing hazel eyes complimented her waist length brown hair which she currently wore in a bun. Her figure was trim with firm breasts and hips. Her legs were long and shapely.

"I'm lucky to have you. Don't think for a moment I don't know you could have had your pick of any man within a hundred miles."

She looked into his eyes.

Tom Willis was a good looking man. Short, even by nineteenth century standards, he barely looked his bride evenly in the eyes. Yet his manner, polished by an Eastern education, set him apart in this rugged land of hard work and hardship.

"No, I'm the lucky one. You've always been good to me, Tom. You've been kind and understanding... maybe too kind."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that... oh nothing, I'm just being foolish."

"No, what is it?"

"Oh, it's just that you've always been a perfect gentleman... and I'm not sure I deserve that."

"What... ?"

"Oh no, it's nothing like that! Tonight will be my first time in a man's bed. It's just that you're always so gentle, so courteous. It's not what I grew up with, not what girls out here expect."

"Mmmmm..." he mused.

"Oh, don't misunderstand. I love you because you're gentle and refined and have manners, not like those other men who used to try to call on me."

"But sometimes you wish I were a little bit more like them?"

She frowned.

"Yes... no... I... oh, pay no attention to my babbling. I love you more than anyone in the whole world, and I love you just the way you are!"

They both smiled.

The wagon plodded on as Miranda's thoughts drifted beyond the courteous and mannerly to the deliciously depraved and bizarre and a slight smile crossed her lips.